by Noah Barnett
He swiveled his chair to the left. The human fighters made up a staggered line moving toward Earth, but the Roth were coming at them in a disorganized ball, which was quickly growing in size. Charlie activated his menu, instructing it to order his target list by distance.
The nearest Roth fighter was about a quarter million kilometers away, and as he selected it, a red arrow in the corner of his vision pointed towards the enemy. His seat, however, wouldn't travel all the way back, and something bright red flashed by them.
"Evasive maneuvers!" Charlie called as another beam skipped past from behind them. The fighter turned, accelerating hard on its new vector, and the human formation scattered as other ships did the same.
His highlighted enemy was now only two hundred thousand kilometers away, and a red box slid into his view. As the enemy fighter neared, more information began to appear, but they were still thousands of kilometers away from his target, which was little more than a red dot in the distance. Trying to shoot it would be like trying to hit a mosquito from across the country.
Charlie tapped the screen to his right, highlighting one of the Wasp missiles. A circle started to bounce around his crosshairs, a beam of red energy barely missing the fighter as he locked onto the Roth. He flicked the left stick’s trigger and a small tube shot forward from the Jaguar. It turned, arcing back towards the Roth in a flurry of rocket exhaust.
"I have to turn back on course, or we risk leaving the engagement," Elva called over the comms.
"Do it. Keep us in the fight." Charlie glanced at the navigation repeater as the Jaguar flipped over. Elva began to thrust forward, causing the fighter to shudder from the g-forces. The dotted line indicating their vector slowly changed to intersect the Roth dropships.
The Wasp left a thin trail as it caught up to the Roth, which he tracked with the turret as the two objects suddenly intersected in a brief explosion. The target on his radar display disappeared from the list and the next closest was automatically selected.
He rotated the turret in the opposite direction. The battle was in full swing as glory-seeking Roth raced forward into the human mass. About half of the fighters had dashed ahead, leaving the rest to guard the dropships.
Charlie selected two more Wasps from his weapons list, tracking the target as it moved towards another fighter. The dancing circle slowly shrank as his system locked onto the engine bloom, and at the tone, he fired. The Wasps shot forward ahead of the Jaguar as Elva continued turning the fighter back into the battle.
Charlie watched as his missiles chased the target. The Roth fired, its laser slicing into a human fighter, and his missiles were only halfway to the Roth fighter when it turned to engage another of the Jaguars. The Wasps were fast, but its sudden maneuver threw them off, their fuel running dry before they could reach their target.
The ships on his list were changing places rapidly and he was forced to select a new target - which was closing in very quickly. Charlie shoved both joysticks to the left. This newest Roth was already within a hundred thousand kilometers, and a bright red blur slid past, just under their Jaguar.
As it entered weapons range, a small pip circle appeared ahead of the target. The enemy was coming straight at them, so the computer only had to account for the Jaguar's lateral movement. Charlie lined up the crosshairs to the middle of the lag pip. Even though they were within fifty thousand kilometers of their target, it was still like aiming at a blurry dot. He squeezed the trigger and the two Gatlings cycled up as red tracers shot out toward the Roth fighter.
A laser sliced into their Jaguar, cutting the left wing clean off. The fighter corkscrewed wildly as red warning lights filled the gunner's cockpit; the primary display warning Charlie that the cabin had been breached, exposing them to the vacuum of space. His ears popped and the sounds were abruptly muffled.
"Charlie!"
"I'm here," he coughed. The middle display was still flashing with warnings and he prodded at the console. The silhouette of the fighter was a mass of red and yellow damage indicators; half the ship had been cut off like a ham at Christmas dinner. One of the thrusters was missing, along with the entire left wing.
"I can't maneuver with one engine, and we’re leaking fuel." Elva sounded worried.
"Are we still aimed at the Roth fleet?"
"Yes…"
"Then that's all we need."
While they'd reeled from the attack, the Roth fighter had slammed into a rain of fifty-caliber lead. The hawk-like craft slid past them in a broken jumble of parts, but their Jaguar wasn't much better off. All the missiles on the left side were gone, so he selected a Shrike SRM from the list and rotated his seat to check on their pursuer.
One of the Shrike missiles was still armed as they flew into the ball of Roth dropships, so Charlie picked one at random and locked onto it. The missile shot out towards the giant lander. He also had one more Falcon left, so he fired that as well and both slammed into the slow-moving target - but it didn't disappear. In fact, the dropship seemed to laugh at his attempt.
He clucked his tongue, aiming the twin Gatlings at the slowly-converging pip, but a laser cut them in half before he could fire. The red beam sliced into the fuselage separating Charlie and Elva and he was thrown from the gunner's seat, yanking the helmet free of the airline. His lungs were immediately exposed to hard vacuum and he coughed blood over his visor as, through a growing haze of red crystals, he caught sight of their Jaguar exploding. A piece of shrapnel shaped eerily like a sword slammed into his chest, and Charlie was pitched into darkness.
The cockpit to the fighter slid open at his death, a welcome breath of fresh air hitting him in the face. He pulled the helmet off, seeing the rest of his wing already waiting by the door. Charlie climbed out, stopping next to the pilot's cockpit. He held out a hand for Elva as she pulled herself free, but she only glanced at his extended palm as she jumped lightly past him. Charlie shrugged and joined the others.
"How did you do?" Monty asked him.
"I got one, what about you? Anything?"
They all shook their heads. Another group was already waiting to take their places.
"Any advice?" one of them asked.
"Shoot your load early," Remy suggested.
At the end of the training hall was a lecture room, where the lieutenant was already waiting. "The briefing will begin after all the participants gather." He pointed to a group of empty chairs. They took their seats and waited another five or six minutes as more players entered.
Mansfield scowled at the recruits, shaking his head in disgust. "I didn't expect any ace piloting today, but by anyone's standard that was a terrible showing. We lost all one hundred fighters in a little over twenty-nine minutes. The enemy lost just sixteen fighters and zero dropships."
"That's BS, I pumped one full of missiles," Charlie called. The instructor paused to check his tablet.
"It says here that you damaged a thruster and breached an equipment bay. A good attempt, but neither would have stopped the dropship from landing." Mansfield dismissed the report.
"Spanky and the Meat Beaters—"
"What an awesome clan name!" Remy shouted.
"—won today's engagement with five collective kills. Pilots… all of you did a good job setting up flight plans, but none of you did much in the way of dodging. Five of your ships were destroyed during just the initial thirty seconds of combat. Sometimes you'll just have to act without thought and fix your ruined vector later. Your first job is to keep your fighter alive."
"But-but… if we move around, the gunner can't hit anything," a girl stammered from the front row.
"Let the gunner worry about that. I also didn't hear a lot of comm traffic during the battle. It's hectic, it's crazy, and I know talking to another player wasn't high on your priority list, but you have wingmates for a reason. Coordinate with them." The lieutenant glanced around at the audience.
"You'll have another training session in fourteen hours. Use that time in your fighter to familiarize your
self with the controls, because after today, your loadout will be specialized to your craft."
He paused. "Does anyone have anything to add?"
"Size-one missiles are worthless against bigger targets," Charlie pointed out.
Mansfield nodded. "The fighters are only thirteen meters in size, but the dropships are a hundred and twenty-four meters long. There's a lot more ship to damage, which means you'll either need bigger missiles, or to attack it directly with weapon fire."
"EM missiles worked the best on the fighters," a dark-skinned man with Asian features added.
"That did seem to be the case," Charlie agreed. "CS missiles took much longer to lock on, and IR missiles worked best if you could get a look at the Roth's ass."
Mansfield clapped his hands.
"We'll reconvene in fourteen hours for another session. That'll be…" he checked a clock on the wall. "Oh-six-hundred tomorrow morning. You can either watch the simulations or practice in your own Jaguar. You won't be able to start it fully, but you can familiarize yourselves with the controls."
He activated the monitor in the room and the display turned on, showing that the other group was still in the process of learning their flight controls. Charlie was about to suggest going to the hangar bay when his stomach rumbled loudly. He looked down in surprise.
"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Monty asked.
"I'm not hungry," Charlie said, making a face. He'd had lunch before logging in.
"Yes, but your character needs to eat and drink now as well."
"That’s right, things are different here than in Gun Meister. Shall we have something, then?" he asked.
"I’ve already suffered through it once today, so I'll pass," Monty shuddered. Charlie turned to Jen and Tobias.
"We probably need to," Jen agreed. Tobias nodded.
Monty led them from the training area down to the main junction and toward the cafeteria, but he and Grace departed quickly rather than entering. Though it was just after lunch, there were a few groups of young teens still eating.
A counter had food set out, mostly cold slices of meat and bread, so Charlie took a plate from the stack and got in line. The thin loaves were hard, and the mysterious meat looked heavily salted. Elva, in front of him, was piling her plate full of food. At the end of the line there was a small console, and she placed her palm on it.
"I have money!"
"We got two kills in the mission. Seems you were awarded the prize money as well," Charlie said, looking over her shoulder. Her ID and stats were displayed and looked just like his, including the Roth ship kills. It asked if she was satisfied with her order, and as she confirmed, her credits dropped by a hundred points.
"I suppose that means you can help out with fuel and air," he added, activating the screen next.
"So, you got two kills?" Jen asked, approaching them with her own plate.
"Yes, but it was more luck than anything. I expected the ships to be a little tanky, but just one hit sliced off a huge chunk."
"I failed Tobias. We were one of the first to die in the simulation," Gadreel said mournfully, looking sour.
"We have days before the true test comes, Angel. Fear not," Tobias said, covering her small hand with his.
"Yes, of course. Sorry."
"Tobias is right. Today was more shock and awe than real training." Jen took a bite of her sandwich. Immediately, she grimaced and spat the hunk of bread out.
"Eww," she groused, looking down at the unleavened grain mixed into the bread. Charlie decided to forgo the bread entirely and focus on the meat. It tasted like jerky, only without the seasoning.
"Any chance I can go back to Earth?" Elva asked, putting her meal down and looking ill. "The bunk I could have lived with…"
"Remember, in Gun Meister you ate simulation food, which was perfect in every way. If you went back to Earth now, you'd still be a ‘human’ citizen. Most likely you’d be dining on this same fine cuisine."
"Bloody hell!" She turned and punched his shoulder.
"Let’s hope the quality improves once the game goes live. Though I wonder if maybe it’s meant to make the kids here realize how bad things can be," Jen mused, glancing around the room. Most of the young boys and girls were eating the food without pause. None were exactly savoring it, but they were eating everything.
"I'm going back to the training area to watch the other players. Hopefully tomorrow goes more smoothly." Jen stood, taking her tray with her. It was still half full, but she tossed the leftovers into the garbage chute. Tobias and Gadreel left to study some more, while Elva slid across the seat and put her head against his shoulder.
"I didn't mean it." Her eyes darted back and forth as she searched his face.
"About coming with me?" Charlie asked, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Don’t worry. As Monty put it, we'll muster through as we always have."
CHAPTER FOUR
Day Three - The Roth
The room was empty, silent except for the low thrum from the air exchanger. Considering the time, it was to be expected. Everyone was likely getting dinner, so Charlie decided to go exploring.
He rolled from his cubby and stepped out of the room. With no destination in mind, he just picked a random direction and casually followed the dashed blue line, which led him away from the fighter training area and into another section of the base.
Teenagers dressed in white and green uniforms dotted the hallways, and the further he walked, the younger they became. Most held datapads or tablets, but all stopped to salute as he walked past. The lunar facility was part fighter base, part Space Academy, and these boys and girls were here to learn just like he was. Each teenager was an NPC, with their own personal file-shares and individual memories.
The blue lines ended in a series of lecture halls. Poking his head into an open doorway, he found a class still in session. A hundred teenagers surrounded a stage, where an attractive teacher, blond hair trimmed in a practical bob, was pointing to a hologram of the solar system.
The holo-image was slowly rotating, the star at the center burning a vibrant yellow as planets swirled around it, and hundreds of red icons swung past Jupiter toward Earth. Intrigued, Charlie stepped into the room as unobtrusively as possible and leaned against the back wall.
"Earth was attacked on July 2nd, 2018 by a fleet of alien ships. Almost a thousand carriers and support ships entered orbit over our planet, launching enough fighters and dropships to blanket the sky in descending craft. America fell first, and the other countries soon after. No continent was left untouched."
A young boy raised his hand, standing as the teacher pointed at him. "How did they survive?"
"The loss was not total, and a few brave men and women were able to eke out a series of victories. Chief amongst these was the capture of a crashed dropship, which they buried under layers of concrete and scrap. Other teams secured research facilities, stockpiled resources, or evacuated key personnel. When the fleet left, only a single carrier remained in the system to keep guard. They seeded the orbit with satellites and retreated to Mars to build an outpost.
"For forty years, humanity waited underground, and the rescued scientists used that time to reverse-engineer the cloning technology recovered from the dropship. With that plus the collected DNA, we were able to bring humanity back from the brink of extinction."
The lecturer paused as she noticed Charlie. Her dark eyes slid over his flight suit to the pilot’s insignia on his breast.
"Welcome, Beta Tester, can I help you?" she asked.
"Don’t mind me. I was just interested in your class, especially the scan data of the alien fleet," Charlie replied, pointing to the holo-display.
She eyed him skeptically. "You were on the ground during the invasion?"
"Not the one forty years ago, of course, but I was there on day one in Gun Meister. The skirmish we dealt with was hard enough to handle."
The crowd of teens turned to gawk at him in earnest, and he felt the weight of their adolesc
ent scrutiny as the teacher pressed a button on her remote. The figure of a seven-foot-tall Roth materialized in the air.
"I was just about to segway into the Roth themselves. Would you mind giving your first-hand account?"
Charlie pushed himself off the wall and strolled to the front of the classroom. The Roth was taller than he remembered, but then again, he’d been shooting at them from a distance. The alien reminded him of a reptile - though certainly not one seen on Earth. Its eyes were small and deeply set, with two thin slits for nostrils. The holographic mouth opened, revealing short, sharp, carnivorous-looking teeth. The Roth on display was green-skinned, meaning that it was relatively young.
He turned to face the students, who were watching his every movement.
